


The Letter in the Heart

by hisfoolishgirl



Series: The Ink of Her Heart [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Female Character, But there's no sexual tension between them, F/F, F/M, Filler to a different work, Genderfluid Character, I don't know, Immortal!Merlin, M/M, Magic Revealed, Male-Female Friendship, Maybe not really but also yes, Merlin/Gwaine - Freeform, Or just romantically?, She don't really care, She's magic and immortal, Should I tag with major character death if the character doesn't stay dead, Slow Burn, Still makes keen sense on it's own, Sure she'll be the male manservant for nearly half a dozen years, Technically hints of, They're cousins in this, but platonically, but that's what Merlin's gonna keep claiming anyways, grief and trauma abound like in the last work, immortal character, just all the moments referenced but not spelled out to in Return Heart to Sender, not really - Freeform, relationships are complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 15:47:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16267361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisfoolishgirl/pseuds/hisfoolishgirl
Summary: Return the Heart to sender like a letter is in it.The letter of how she loves Arthur.This is the ink of the moments that make up her devotion - and his.





	1. Introductions

On that first meeting with Arthur, she’d known who he was. She had entered Camelot with only one thing on her mind, one goal in the move. Find somewhere exciting to hide - a job to send money home and a greater depth to her employability.

Clothed as a man for travel, and her voice enchanted for flexibility to match the disguise - and flexible enough to give away the truth if that should be forcibly revealed. After all, if it came to it she would hide her magic til her death - or technically past that if she could. It would be best to disguise her art with the Old Religion as a different sort of skill that her father had always struggled to teach her with in the village out of the middle of nowhere, vocal manipulation.

She had been training with her father - with knives not disguise - when the truth of her nature came out with an accident falling out of a tree. Her bones had weaved back together and her heart started again. It made hiding her magic so much more thrilling a proposal, and Camelot more daring a place to live. The need to hide so much deeper as the skills of an immortal assassin - or the discovery of a warlock whose magic would not let her die - were not matters that would easily fade from a curious mind.

It was that depth of cover - agreed to be vital in Camelot’s walls with Gaius’ consultation - that kept her dressed as a man on arrival to Camelot. The whispers of a dragon woman - a fierce protector on the roads who wield both magic and daggers whose dangerous bearing was headed towards Camelot - that she left in her path would be enough to draw a dangerous suspicion. If she kept that dragon tooth smile of a dangerous wit. And, that was an impossible matter to shake away. So, she hide in Camelot’s walls as a man instead. It had been wholly Merlin’s idea that that meant she had to keep the whole disguise.

And, When Arthur asked her if she knew how to walk on ‘his’ knees… She had almost turned it into something more, but innocence seemed the better course of action for the prince who did not know how entertaining being an adult could be.

And, admittedly, the male disguise had helped to still her tongue.

It was the tomato in her hair that made her regret that she’d passed on the small bit of fun she could have had with that chance encounter.

 

* * *

 

 

The second had been a chance to practice subtly and the art of staying in character as a hapless fool. The fact that no one could have guessed that the fear for _Arthur’s_ safety had been the cause of Gaius’s pale face had made it worth the repeated punishment.

 

* * *

 

 

The Dragon called her, and she went and told it what her dad had always told her to tell the lizard kin of theirs. She simply flicked him off, “I’ll have none of your games. I’ll humor none of your abuse. I am not in the heritage of my father’s blood yet - and I’ll have you respect that that means you have no claim to my attentions either.”

He never called her again, but the small smile on his lips and glimmer in his eyes as she left him haunted her dreams.

 

* * *

 

She was bent over with laughter in her room after saving the prince’s life, and Gaius simply watched with a raised eyebrow from her doorway, “What are you going to do, Merlin?” He asked softly.

She smiled at him. It was a sharp as her tools, “I’ll serve the prince of course. In _every_ capacity that I have - and _no one_ will be the wiser.”

 


	2. The Introduction of Lancelot

 

And for a while - she was absolutely correct about that. It wasn’t until news of bandits harassing Ealdor that the game that she’d made of it started to unravel. Arthur found her dressed in a dress - the one her mother had sown for her. It concealed leggings underneath the layers of fluff and had openings for her to pull out concealed daggers. It was practical considering the adventure she was about to go on - and Markus only ever listened to her when she wasn’t dressed as someone else. 

And she’d pulled Arthur’s sword on Markus which - with her own father’s words, Balinor with too many secrets of his own - gave away the rest of her game. 

Although not the one with hiding her magic. Nor her immortality. Just that Merlin was the most dangerous person to keep so close to a prince’s side. At even half of the truth that could be told of her.

Yet, Arthur kept her there. Perhaps he even dragged her closer to his heart because of the truth. 

But that wasn’t the sort of a matter that Merlin would have noticed on her own. 

Not with Arthur. She could never win his heart. She would never want it to be won. 

Not by  _ her _ .

 

* * *

 

 

A dagger wasn’t long enough to keep the griffin’s reach away from her. Lancelot wasn’t suppose to be watching. He wasn't suppose to be staring down the beast with a drawn sword of his own. 

A lot happened on her adventure for herbs that morning that weren't suppose to happen. 

Yet, they did. 

And in the end, his fingers struggled with her neck, pressing hard enough to stem her blood and struggling not to end her by cutting off her air. She tried to push him away. It was a weak attempt at first, but to Lance’s surprise it was not weakening arms that met him as she continued. She managed to do it in fact. She pushed him off of her and glared. An awkward silence sat between them.

The wound was gone. Her cheeks red with her frustration, not pale with the pools of blood around her instead of in her.

Her hat had slipped from her hair, long locks still concealed by the flimsy fabric, and her blood had dried over her outfit of choice, servant’s clothing, at the moment. Her face was unmarked, unmarred by the event of her death, and if Lancelot’s reaction was anything to go by - it made her appearance a ghastly thing to look at.

“Well, that’s the griffin taken care of then.” Merlin finally managed she let out a deep breath. Once it was clear he wasn't going to start screaming about trying to kill the witch that was clearly in front of him.

“That,” Lancelot finally agreed, “Would be true.”

Merlin nodded once, stood, glanced at Lancelot, and decided to that spelling away the blood on her would hardly do any more harm to her cover then dying in front of the man had done. So she vanished it away with a golden flash of her eyes, and her gaze met his stunned one, “So. Are you okay...?”

“Lancelot? And I feel that I should be asking you that - but I think your appearance makes the answer quite known,” He mumbled, “What are you? A goddess? How are you still alive?”

Merlin laughed at that. She laughed far too long. She laughed too hard. Her own thoughts had been monster the first time it had happened. She met his hurt gaze, “I suppose that is one way of putting it. Magic,” She whispered with a flick of a wrist over herself, “Magic itself keeps me alive. Nothing more then that. I am nothing but a vessel along for the ride.”

“Oh, well, uh - As long as it’s nothing more then that I suppose?”

She smirked, “Traveling for a reason then, Lance?” She asked as she picked her hat back up from the ground and tucked away her hair.

“Headed to Camelot,” He answered cautiously, “Why?”

“Because you were going to run it through like an idiot,” She answered with a shrug, “Might have died to trying to save my life. You didn’t know it was pointless - on either front. My inability to die. It’s inability to die from anything but a mortal blow through magic. I like you for that and wanna know if there is something that I can do for you to do right by you for such actions.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I want to do you a favor,” Her words chosen slowly with care, “You asked if I was a goddess? Perhaps it’s best to consider me fae if you still wish to see me as something.  Like a fairytale I want to reward you for trying to do a noble act that would have lead to your death even if it never happened. I know Camelot, quite intimately in fact, what are you going there to do?”

“Become a knight,” His voice weak in the face of all that she’s said, “I want to keep saving people - and to be able to join the ranks of the knights in Albion? There is no greater honor. I have been training since a child, and I hope my efforts will allow me to wear Camelot’s red.”

“You can’t do that afraid to say,” She answered with a shake of the head. Knowing how to kill had meant a fair share of listening to her father’s lectures on politics - because you had to know when and who to kill as well, “Camelot will only allow blue bloods into that position.”

“Oh.”

“But - I can get you before the heir apparent, Prince Arthur. I can get a you a spot in the court.”

“I am afraid, my lady, I don’t understand what most of that statement was meant to say.”

“I’m the prince’s man servant. Merlin.” She an swered, her voice deeper by magic, and Lancelot simply kept staring at her as if she’d revealed the secrets to how make a rat taste like the chicken they’d been eating for a week during famine, “And you did just save my life-”

“But I didn’t.”

“Well, I can’t exactly just tell the court that I killed a griffin with magic now can I? Nor that I died doing so.”

“Neither can I!”

“Yes, but they’ll at least believe that  _ you _ killed it with a  _ sword _ .”

“And they wouldn’t you? Even a Male servant -”

Merlin snorted, “Arthur would. But only Arthur.”

“Do I want to know why that is?”

Merlin opened her mouth to answer, but then she thought about it, “Not really I suppose.”

“Oh. Well, then I shalln’t ask why that is - but if I can’t be a knight? Why would you get me a spot in the courts? I want to protect the people of Camelot - not to clean chamber pots.”

Merlin waved at the griffin beside her as if to say -  _ clearly I am not cleaning chamber pots, _ “Because an extra set of eyes and hands would help me in protecting the kingdom. It could get you training with the knights as well. It will provide you with a front row seat to the kingdom’s plights and enable you to be at the prince’s hand to assist.”

“Why would he let a servant assist in saving the land? When he has knights for that?”

Merlin smirked, “Welcome to Camelot. We hide a lot from the king around here.”

“I- I think I am slowly learning that.”

 

* * *

Merlin would have cooed over the caution that Lancelot’s body language exhibited, except as she carried the griffin’s head in her arms she knew there were some lines that were simply not the ones to cross. That would have been one of them as she entered the courtyard dedicated to the knights and their training. 

Arthur noticed the moment she’d entered. If they were alone she would have jibed him about that, and he would have argued about the griffin head being the source of his distraction. He would grow pink in the face. Merlin would laugh. They’d both have a fine time - but they weren’t alone so she didn’t. Instead she beamed,  “Someone’s saved my life again, Arthur! Here is the trophy to prove it!”

Another knight sputtered, and Merlin made quick note of the fact that it was Leon. Ah, one for the record books. It was a hard lot that phased that man.

Arthur pulled away from the man he was trying to train with, and he met Merlin in the gateway halting her from progressing any further, “What is this about?”

“The griffin that the patrols have been trying to hunt down?” Merlin started, “He’s killed it.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Lancelot with scepticism, “And you’re sure -  _ you’re not the one that did it _ ?”

Lancelot sputtered, and Merlin didn’t look to confirm it but she would have bet money that the man paled at those words. Merlin simply rolled her eyes, “Hard to kill a beast this big,” The head was the size of her chest about. There was a reason why it had managed to get at her neck with its beak after all, “With a set of daggers.”

Which she had done - granted. But - She had also died during that attempt so it was logical for Arthur to turn his attention to Lancelot, “Is what he said true?”

“She’s- Yes- He’s,” Lancelot sputtered.

Arthur held his forehead, “Merlin,” He growled, “What happened-”

“Hat fell off,” She answered quickly, “Hair went everywhere.”

“You still tried to kill it didn’t you?” He was defeated, “You still tried to poke the beast to death with your tiny mice blades, didn’t you, Merlin?”

“Merlin did,” Lancelot answered, “I found her trying to make lots of pokes at it.”

“Look,” Merlin snapped, “This man - Lancelot - slayed the griffin. Because yeah. I probably would have died if he hadn’t-” Her gaze fell on the man, and for Arthur that would be enough to explain Lance’s discomfort at that moment, “But if you don’t think he’s able to have done it - then test him. Have a round with his blade if you will. Or whatever else you manly men sorts call it when you’re beating each other up with a long pointy piece of metal.”

“A spar?” Arthur provided unamused, “You forgot the word for sparring?”

Merlin shrugged. She would admit to nothing.

Arthur sighed, “Fine. I will, but what sort of reward is he seeking for doing what the kingdom’s finest failed to do themselves?”

“Well, since he’s not a noble he can’t join the finest,” Merlin started.

“Merlin.” Arthur interrupted.

“So - He should join the courts. Doesn’t Leon need a new man servant? And - that maybe one day he can be available for such a day as the one that he can join.”

Arthur stared at Merlin, “You think I’ll allow a common born man to become a knight? You must be joking.”

Merlin smirked, “Do you want me to prove the sort of skills us folk of common blood can have? I could take the entire yard of knights right here,” She glanced at Lancelot and smirked, “I still have my set of daggers on me right now - Want me to prove it, Arthur?”

Arthur paled. He didn’t doubt her, and Lancelot paled in response to that, “You, Merlin,” Arthur breathed, “Fight dirty. You could never be a knight.”

“Also a female. But - Lancelot isn’t me,” Merlin gentled her voice, “Please. Please, Arthur, don’t turn him away from Camelot.”

Arthur turned to Lancelot, “Do you want to be here after learning about Merlin?” He asked, “Do you really want to live in the same building as this woman?”

Lancelot glanced at Merlin and then he met Arthur’s gaze, “It has been my dream since a child to be one of the knights of Camelot. If keeping Merlin’s company is required to protect the kingdom then I will gladly endure it.”

“Well,” Merlin rolled her eyes, “Glad I’m such a burden to both of you.”

Arthur smirked, and he nodded to a circle in the grass, one of the sparring rings, “Prove yourself, and maybe I’ll consider advising Leon to take you on. To be warned. It won’t be for a great number of years before I become king.”

“Long live the king,” Lancelot answered. Arthur smiled, and Merlin watched as they left her side and as the swords clashed.

“Long live the king,” She repeated herself as her gaze lingered over Arthur and his single minded focus on the battle at hand.

She watched as Lancelot brought the prince down a peg before Arthur took a note from her book, “That was dirty,” Merlin moaned from the sideline.

“Don’t want to hear that from you,” Arthur grumbled as he helped Lancelot up. He kept his  hand on Lancelot and met the man’s eyes, “We don’t talk about Merlin. He is an oaf of a man servant, but I owe him my life and so the king is the one personally responsible for the fact that he still has his job. Am I clear?”

Lancelot glanced at Merlin, and she smiled, “Simple rule,” She whispered, “We hide a lot from the king around here.

Arthur frowned, but he couldn’t argue not with the half truths that Merlin kept him feed with, “That,” Lancelot conceded, “Seems to be a truth that I’m slowly learning. I understand though. The need for discretion that is though.”

Arthur nodded before motioning for Lancelot to follow him over to where Leon was leading his own men in training. Merlin simply smiled, too grateful for an extra set of hands to blame her actions on.

 

* * *

The King heard of what Lancelot’s actions, and Uther was an easy sell on allowing his position in Leon’s service and as a part of Camelot’s household. Uther was never the sort to remember faces of those that made fleeting impressions. Even if Lancelot’s face was amongst the knights during a training session, he’d never notice it.


	3. Written in Magic

It was the druid boy that Merlin kept Lancelot away from. She should have kept Morgana away from him as well. It was the injustice of Uther that she saw tearing Morgana apart, bit by bit, and not even gentle kisses stolen from a man servant in the shadows of Camelot’s citadel could distract Morgana from it, not with her dreams haunting her with reminders of it in the one moment of the day she should have been allowed a moment of privacy about such matters.

 

* * *

 

When Morgana’s drafts from Gaius stopped working, Merlin slide Morgana out of the castle. She didn’t tell her why, but Morgana trusted Merlin. She knew there were certain things that they should never be caught doing in the castle’s walls. The moment of jest they’d had at Arthur’s embarrassment had grown into something more. Merlin hadn’t considered a relationship of that sort with her own gender before, but then again. As a man servant, and as shy as Morgana was - it was easy to deny to that that was what it was. That it was more then her cover as Merlin Arthur’s Male Man Servant that drew her close to the flame of Morgana’s easy passion. That was what had made it easy to draw Morgana into the forest, into the shadowy depths that hid so many of Camelot’s secrets. That hid the druids so close to the citadel.

Before Morgana could have her wicked way with Merlin - She revealed herself. She pulled back and her tone was still deep. Merlin still hid but she met Morgana’s eyes, “Before we go further,” Merlin whispered, “I can’t keep lying.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mordred,” Merlin whispered, “I didn’t simply want to help Mordred because he was innocent. I mean, I did - But - Here let me show you.” Merlin held up her hand between them, and with a whisper a flame flickered from her fingers, and a butterfly was shaped from it. It flew into the forest. 

Morgana pulled away from Merlin, “You have magic?” She whispered. If Morgana hadn’t pulled away, Merlin would have claimed that the desire in Morgana’s eyes had only grown into a deeper shade of lust.

“Yes,” Merlin whispered, “But - Do you know what magic can do?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I need to know, Morgana. Your dreams?” She pried gently, “You dream of the future don’t you?”

And with that question, and the complete loss of Morgana’s touch on her, Merlin knew she’d killed the moment between them, “Of course not.”

“The future can be changed - just because you’ve dreamt of something -”

“Are you trying to tell me that i have magic,” Morgana snapped.

“Yes,” Merlin whispered, “Yes, I am. I’m worried of what it will do to you without proper training to handle it.”

The tense airdropped, and Morgana watched Merlin with a wary air, “What can it do to me then, Merlin? If my nightmares are magic that I can’t control - what can it do to me?”

“Madness,” Merlin whispered, “The onslaught can also result in waking dreams. You’ll never be able to tell reality from all the potential that time can give humanity.”

“Why  _ did _ you bring me out here, Merlin?”

“The druid camp?” Merlin started, “Well, a druid camp is near the castle again. I reached out. They have a seer. They’re willing to train you.”

“And what of Uther? I doubt it will take hours, and I doubt they’ll stay lurking near enough for me to keep slipping away to them every night.”

Merlin nodded, “You’re right, but I’m not a seer. I can’t train you, Morgana.”

“But you have magic-”

“If my magic brought me dreams?” Merlin interrupted, “Then I’d never have had a chance to control them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m - I’m really good at illusions. Conjuring lies. Was doing that sort of thing before I even left the womb to my parents’ horror from the way they tell me about it. No training just - happens. The only reason I am in Camelot is so Gaius can help me. And clearly he has jo gift with the sight either - why else would he simply try to keep.you drugged too deep at night to shelter you from them otherwise?”

“He is like family - but if he knew that's what the terror were why isn’t he the one telling me about this? Why isn’t he here to explain what I am going through?”

“Am I not good enough?” Merlin whispered as she took Morgana’s hand. She wove their fingers together, and their eyes met.

“Of- of course you are, Merlin. I just…”

“Gaius let me go to the druids. Told me to. I refused to allow Gaius get involved. If Uther found out… Better that I burn then the court’s physician.”

“I beg to disagree about that, Merlin.”

“Well,” Merlin smirked, “I also get to say farewell this way as well. Will you allow me the greed of that before you hate Gaius for lying to you?”

“Perhaps,” Morgana whispered, “Perhaps.”

“Do you want to train with the druids, Morgana? Or... ”

“Should you tell them not to wait for me?” Morgana tentatively finished for her.

Merlin nodded.

“I don’t want to go mad, Merlin. Camelot deserves better then that. I don’t want to get lost in a world of could be’s. I can’t keep living like this.”

Merlin smiled, and she intertwined their fingers together as she lead her lady to the camp. Neither knowing that the roads to madness could come in different shapes.

 

* * *

 

Merlin was in Arthur’s room when news broke that the Lady Morgana was missing, and she watched the prince struggle for two days to find the druids that were being blamed by Uther for stealing her. Uther blamed without evidence. He blamed only out of a sense of prejudice and not because it bore some shade of being the truth.

She watched only for two days before she locked them in his chambers, “You won't be able to find her, Arthur.”

“Merlin,” Arthur growled, “I know it is late, and that it has been too long for you without your lover - but there is no reason to give up now. I have no plans in leaving this-”

“She has magic,” Merlin interrupted, “And I figured we wouldn’t want people walking in if I were going to explain myself. So I locked the door.”

“Then please, Merlin. Do exactly that then. Explain. Now.” Merlin watched Arthur cautiously before continuing forward. He looked both ready to strangle her and ready to jump out the window in defeat unsure of which would relieve his suffering the fastest.

“Her dreams,” She answered softly, “She dreamt of your death most of the times that I’ve saved you.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the news of Merlin’s continuing actions to protect him. It was new news to him after all. Not stunning news considering he knew exactly - at least in part - the force that she could be despite the meek appearance that she played up for the court. 

Balinor had given her away after all.

“Why do you think I came to Camelot?” She whispered, “If not to kill you? Then it was sure as hell -”

“Merlin - Language!”

“I make sure no one else is murdering the heir! I think I’m allowed to swear at least for all the work that I do in your shadows.”

He frowned at that, but said nothing. She took that as permission to continue on her explanation.

“So, I snuck Morgana away to the druids. The drafts that Gaius used to keep her magic from consuming her stopped working to suppress her gift. She needed tutoring.”

“And you’re telling me this why?”

“Because you’ve kept up appearances quite well,” Merlin knew her eyes twinkled as he groaned, “And I couldn’t watch you hurt yourself any longer out of fear for her well being.”

“I wasn’t hurting myself.”

“Have you slept since she left?”

Arthur turned to window in his apparent answer to that statement.

“And because you’re not going to find her now no matter what anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been the reason for the false leads, sire.”

“Merlin!”

“The Druids are finally past your reach so there’s no reason for you to keep trying to thwart me.”

“I was never-”

Merlin smirked, and she joined him at the window, “Doesn’t matter if didn't know you were trying,” She whispered, “I was. It was still a game.”

“It was Morgana’s life to me.”

“The magic would have driven her mad, Arthur. It was her life to myself as well.”

“You don't know that.”

“I am an assassin and you think I know nothing about magic?” She hissed, “I dear for Camelot’s future if you think ignorance is a friend to embrace.”

“Merlin.”

“What, prat? Think I am going to start dancing on roses for you now?”

“The study of magic is treason-"

“The lack of it was I am sure why its banned!”

“Shut up-"

“You are not worried about the fact that Morgana has it-"

“Of course not! If there is any one I would trust not to let her corrupt them? It would be her!”

“Really? You think magic just does that? You think its magic and not power that-"

“What does it matter to you what I think about magic anyways, Merlin?’

“You’re going to be king!”

“And the laws are still-"

“It does matter - but I thought you we were smarter then this.”

She had verbally slapped him if his wide eyes and silence were anything to go by. He took a deep breath as he made his way to the lone window in his room.

“How long is she going to be away?”

“Could be upwards to a year or more even. I don't know. They couldn't tell me how long it would take. Not until she’s sure not to have waking dreams anyways.”

“Waking dreams?”

“Vision while the sun is still up, and her mind is still alert on other matters. Seers have a history of blinking and slipping into the sight if they’re not trained.”

“Oh,” Arthur managed weakly, “Then it’s a good thing she’ll have control then.”

“Safer for all of us anyways.”

Neither knew that it was the only action that kept Morgana from trying to look into the future that Merlin would have. That her lies of being just a conjuror would lead Morgana to restricting her instructions on how to kill Arthur when Merlin was bound under her control. Neither knew that Merlin’s actions then were the only reason that Morgana tried to succeed where Nimueh had failed in the attempt to kill Merlin, to bend her to a fate that she refused to have, by tearing out her heart.

No one knew that, but in hindsight it would haunt Merlin for years.


	4. Ink in Red

It was a bracelet. Nimueh’s return to the court brought a bracelet with a yellowed stone, and Merlin knew it at first sight. A phoenix eye trapped in metal forged from a dragon’s breath, unbreakable steel. It was her trade to kill, and she knew the magic that was required for such. The eye of phoenix was able to look forward, but only through the living. It stole that life, even if it was never to be used for such devices. A matching set was presented to the court from a peasant in Camelot as thanks for saving their lands from bandits. One for Arthur, and the other for his man servant who had assisted him in doing such.

Merlin was presented with the one that would drain the wearer’s life, and it was that evening that she realized it carried more charms then that. It had wielded itself closed, a much smaller enchantment. Dragon’s breath was the sort of metal carried that spell well, hidden away under the cloak of all the other spells upon it to prevent the metal from breaking.

She died in her sleep that night. She died twice before she knew there was nothing she could do. Her form wouldn’t support it, and she had work to do in the morning. Arthur couldn’t know. 

She couldn’t avoid it. There was only one chance she had to break the chain without resorting to traveling to Ealdor - to her father - and her face was currently on the stone of her bedroom floor. She was use to using her magic to speed up recoveries, but the eye was simply consuming it in its attempt to consume her. She couldn’t stand. She couldn’t travel down to the dungeons in this state, not alone.

_ Lancelot. _

She waited for a response to know that he was awake, but after a minute or two she winced. He had no magic to send thoughts back with. She took a deep breath. She had told Morgana that she had been a natural born conjuror. That had been a lie, but being able to project and see in places far away had been a skill that her father had beaten into her. The skill of being able to coordinate a high priority once Balinor had discovered the depth of magic Merlin had to pull from. She took a deep breath and hoped that the excessive use of magic wouldn’t kill her again before she knew the man was coming to her.

She stood over him, and he was staring at the ceiling with eyes wide open. Merlin cleared her throat, “Spirits!” Lancelot hissed as surprise rolled him out of his bed. He looked over the frame and stared at the blue ghost form she was able to maintain, “Merlin?”

She smirked, “Could you come down to the Court Physician’s chambers? I’m currently dying and need some help.”

“Dying? But you can’t, can you?”

“Correct,” Merlin admitted, “Hence the problem-”

The eye wanted any energy, and it killed her again mid sentence.

She had managed to sit up against her bedframe in the time that it took for Lancelot to get out of his bed chambers and bursting into her room. He stared at her ghastly pale and clammy form, “Merlin…”

She smiled weakly, “I need to go somewhere. Arthur can’t know about this.”

Lancelot nodded, and he helped her up. He held her up, and his arm was tight around her waist and his grip secure on the wrist that was over his shoulder, “Where are we going, Merlin?”

“The dungeons,” She whispered, “I have a friend there - well… I say friend.”

Lancelot nodded. He never questioned her, which was more then Merlin could say about herself right then. She blacked out again on the way down.

“The dragon,” She whispered, “If I’m not - awake. Then keep going down until the fumes of ash feel like they’ll consume your bones by hiding them in lies. Kilgharrah is the only one left.”

“Are you sure about this, Merlin?”

She held her head closer to Lancelot and shook it, “No choice. The bracelet won’t come off. Dragon’s steel. I can’t get it off.”

Lancelot glanced at the bracelet as he continued leading them further down, “The bracelet is doing this? Is Arthur -”

“Safe? Yes. They were trying to kill me.”

“You? But no one else knows about you do they?”

“I have another name to the druids,” Merlin mumbled before slipping away for the fifth time that night, “Emrys. Nimueh believes she can kill Emrys.”

“And that’s you?”

Merlin nodded, “Ironically - The magical servant to the once and future king and she thinks I’ll die before that happens.”

“Is that why you can’t die? Because Arthur isn’t king yet then?”

Merlin shrugged, “Hadn’t thought about it like that, but I doubt it.”

“Why?”

“Because if his reign goes into the future? Then so does my life.”

“Ah. So you’ll never have a reason not to be reckless then, will you, Merlin?”

Merlin smiled, “Keep me walking and we’ll see how it goes after the dragon. Might clean up my act then.”

She glanced up and saw Lancelot smirking. She managed the same, “Thank you.”

He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow, “For what, Merlin?”

“For saving me. For being here. For not thinking that I was a monster…”

Lance barely managed to keep more color in his face then Merlin had in hers, “Merlin…” She smiled, and they kept walking in silence until they made it to the last set of stairs, “When we first met - you died because you were trying to protect Camelot. I know nothing about prophecies or destinies, but I know your commitment to staying at Arthur’s side to protect him is why you’re dying right now - right?”

Merlin nodded, “Nimueh wants to open the doors for whoever it is that’s destined to kill Arthur to have success at doing exactly that.”

“Ah, well. I could never think of you as a monster for using the skills that you have to protect the people that cannot protect themselves.”

Merlin felt the burning path of her tears, but neither made mention of them.

“Thank you,” Merlin whispered, “Thank you.” 

Lance smiled, but he said nothing as he struggled with the last few steps down the stairs.

“Come to see me again?” The dragon’s voice echoed through the caverns, and Merlin felt Lance go stiff beside her, “Am I truly so unbearable that you’ll only come to see me while you’re dying? Or when you want something from me?”

Merlin smiled, and she glanced at Lance, “You can go ahead and set me down on the ledge.”

Lance nodded.

“And then you can leave.”

“No,” Lance eyed the dragon that landed in cavern before them, “I don’t think I will, Merlin.”

“I will not be the one to kill the young dragonlord tonight,” Killigarah purred.

“Hardly reassuring,” Lance grumbled.

Merlin smiled, “Don’t take it personally, Big K. Your kind earned a certain rep. That’s all.”

“So I am to be judged by the rest of my kind?”

“Because you managed not to fly away or get murdered with the rest of them? Absolutely,” Merlin answered with a smile.

“Watch your tongue, whelp. You have come to me for the favor-”

“I have come to you for nothing but…” Merlin coughed, and she slumped before the world faded once more. She awoke with Lance holding her tight from sliding down the ledge, “But that which is due to me.”

“Due?” The dragon hissed, “You are barely living for a quarter of the hour and as you said the first time we spoke - you have not come into your blood’s birthright. You are due nothing.”

“My father is not the immortal one, Kilgharrah. You had best favor me for what I mean to your future.”

The dragon stilled, “I could do a tremendous amount of harm to you now, young one. There are fates worse then death - and even with eternity pending down on us I could find ways of ensuring my safety from you.”

“Or you could save my quality of life right now, and I would be indebted to you.”

“That sounds like a favor.”

“And it is still entitled to me.”

“Indeed it would be, wouldn’t it? But, I won’t do it all the same, Emrys.”

Merlin shrugged, “Lance, I’ll be here all night. Go. Rest. See if Leon will have you take my spot in servicing Arthur for the next few days while I get this sorted out.”

“No-”

“Lance - this is an art. I thought it wouldn’t take a few days, that he’d be reasonable, but his pride is unbending. Go.”

“I don’t believe your safe -”

“He is kin, Lancelot. I am safe with him even if he is a fool.”

“Merlin. I want explanations later over how your kin is a dragon.”

Merlin smiled. She nodded, “It would be due to you,” She admitted.

“And I want you to stop sounding like him by the time you get back to us then,” He added.

Merlin smirked, “Promise.”

Lancelot sighed, “Then. I’ll go. Just do that-” He pointed to his forehead, “Mind thing if you need me. I know where you are after all.”

Merlin smirked, but she laid down and curled up into her side, “You heard that after all, huh?”

Lancelot kissed her forehead, “Recover, Merlin. Please.”

Merlin nodded, “Tell that to the scaly bastard keeping me here.”

Lance rolled his eyes, “What am I to tell Arthur?”

“Gaius says I’m at the tavern. That should still his tongue enough for you.”

“What will he think you’re doing then if I say that? Or do I not want to know that?” 

“He’ll think I’m off killing someone,” She glared at the dragon that was still looming down on them, “And he might not be wrong-”

“You could not do so in this state, young warlock. No matter how vast your powers are normally.”

Merlin snorted, “If I die a dozen times we’ll see what lengths I get to then.”

“Desperation does not suit you, Merlin.”

“Always with a different name. Do you think that means you know me?”

“I see your destiny. I know you.”

“Oh? What do you see?”

“That you and Arthur are two sides of a coin. Inseparable.”

“Except when lizards refuse to give aid then, hm?”

“It is the scope of the thing that exists, not the minuta.”

“Bastard.”

“Lazy choice of words there, Merlin.”

“Oh, fuu…”

 

* * *

 

Lancelot stared at the still form, the wide eyes that were lifeless, and he looked up at Kilgharrah, “Why? Why won’t you just help her?”

“She stayed away, my young dragon lord,” He answered softly, “She knows what I want in exchange for the service.”

“And that is what? Barbs and insults?”

“Company, Lancelot. I want her company for just a few days.”

Lancelot stood, and he ran his fingers through his hair, “And if the kingdom has need of her?”

The dragon smiled, “Then I’ll know, and Merlin is not the sort to be denied her destiny, is she?”

“She’ll be dreadful company like this.”

“I’ll be wonderful company,” Merlin grumbled, “Stunning company, dead half the time of it. Best way to handle a dragon.”

The dragon’s laughter roared, and Lance slipped away to save his ears. It was a marvel that it did not rock its way through the castle.

 

* * *

 

Arthur awoke not to a loud shout and curtains thrown open, but to gentle bell, “Lancelot?” Arthur groaned before rolling to the side, “Where’s Merlin at?”

“She told me to tell you she’s at the tavern.”

“Fuck.”

“Hm?”

“Is that really where she is?”

“No, but I doubt you want to know the truth.”

“I doubt it as well,” Arthur grumbled, “Does Leon not-”

“He had an opening as a man servant because he refuses to keep them on staff apparently. Doesn’t see the need for one - so no. I’m not shirking my duties by being here. I’m actually doing more work now.”

“... He saw you down me the other day didn’t he?”

“Yes. He asked if you wanted to keep me around so another kingdom wouldn’t knight me before you could. I told him that that seemed to be the case.”

“Still polishing his armor then?”

“After training.”

“Squire Lancelot, huh?”

“It seems odd - the amount of liberty being the given to the servants in your court, sire.”

“Only to the two of you - well… Gwen as well I suppose with Morgana gone. Father is still paying her her full wages to keep Morgana’s chambers ready for her return after all.”

“The Lady Morgana? The king thinks she’ll return to the courts shortly then?”

“He hopes,” Arthur whispered as he slipped from his bed, “But he’s wrong too. You know Merlin’s secrets. How many more of Camelot’s lot do you want to hear about?”

“I will repeat nothing,” Lance answered slowly, “But I do not say that I want to hear it if you do not wish to tell it.”

“I wish,” Arthur mumbled, “I wish for someone sane to tell the truth to.”

“I stayed in Camelot despite knowing that all the appearance of it seem to be shifting. I doubt I would count as someone sane to talk to.”

Arthur smirked, “She’s a seer. Morgana has magic, and Merlin escorted her to the druids for training.”

“Merlin did that?”

“They were lovers. Once. I don’t know if they still are.”

“Could you repeat that for me, sire?”

“Morgana never found out that Merlin is female apparently, and Merlin - she told me it was for the sake of her cover as Merlin.”

“Do you believe her?”

Arthur shrugged, “They fit together. Two pieces that swirled without ever blending together.”

“I see.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable to hear about?”

“Merlin is a force of nature. Is there anything comfortable about being near her?”

Arthur stared at Lancelot, “And yet - she trusts you, doesn’t she?”

“Vastly,” Lance answered without missing a beat, “And I trust her, sire, but that does not mean comfort. We both know that a fight is not a thing of safety, but would you wish to be without your sword?”

“You think she’s a tool?”

“That was not what I meant to say, sire.”

“What do you think of Merlin then?” Arthur asked. His eyes pleading with Lancelot as he struggled with his own thoughts towards their friend.

“I think she’s a fire,” Lancelot whispered, “Just as likely to burn as she is to warm. It simply depends on her location and your own. As I said - a force of nature that we have yet to discover fully.”

“And you trust her you said?”

“Don’t you?”

“I - I don’t think I know to be honest.”

“Yet you trust me enough to tell me all this?”

Arthur rolled his shoulders, “You’re the only other one to know all her secrets.” Lance froze, and Arthur noticed, “Is there something that you wish to tell me?”

“You underappreciate her,” Lancelot whispered, “Because I assure you with all respect, sire, she has not told you all of hers. Because she did it. She killed the griffin with her daggers, but she thought it was worth something that I tried. She needed someone to take the credit for it as well because the courts needed to know it was dead and she couldn’t claim to have done it.”

“And you just claimed-?”

“Yes. And I’d do it again for Merlin. Because I know that it is for Camelot if I follow her - and she asked me to come so she can have an extra set of hands to trust to help her protect it from the shadows.”

“Are you sure she’s protecting Camelot?”

“Do you think she’s not?”

“And you know then - what she’s doing at the tavern right now?”

“Yes.”

A muscle jumped in Arthur’s face, “Why lie to me then?”

Lancelot glanced at Arthur, “I would presume because she finds it hard to talk about.”

“Merlin find something hard to talk about?” Arthur snorted.

“She once told me thank you for not thinking of her as a monster, sire,” Lancelot whispered, and with that somber note the room fell silent.

 

* * *

 

Merlin rubbed her wrist after the dragon burnt off her hand, “You could have just waited longer if you wanted to keep me down here,” She grumbled, “Now I have to wait for the bloody thing to regrow.”

“Maybe I grew weary of you passing away with every other sentence,” Kilgharrah admitted.

Merlin grumbled, and she rolled her eyes. She couldn’t really argue about that.

 

 

* * *

 

Four days, Leon let Lance go service Arthur without asking a single question. Day five he did. It was a simple question to Lancelot.

“Is Merlin well?”

Lancelot stared at Leon, and his eyes were lost as he answered, “I don’t know.”

“Will he be coming back to Arthur? Or should I just have you reassigned to Arthur?”

At that Lance smirked, “Oh. Merlin will be back. Nothing can keep him away from Camelot.”

Leon nodded once, “If Arthur treated me the way he does Merlin? No one would answer that with the same level of conviction, Lancelot. Perhaps you’re wrong.”

“Respectfully, Sir Leon, I would insist that I am not. Not in this matter.”

“Hm. Do - Do you have a reason for that?”

“I know Merlin, sir.”

 

* * *

 

It was nearly a week later that Arthur woke up with a shouted wish of Arthur’s quality of the morning and thrown open curtain blinding him. He squinted at the young woman, that used every drop of skill her father provided her with to fool the world that she was anything but that, and he scowled, “It’s been a week and you think you still have your job?”

She smirked, “Of course, sire. Lancelot works for Leon after all, and that’s too good a gig for anyone to give up. Especially when one does not insist to be behave like a servant to Sir Leon. That is after all the only way he’ll fire you.”

Arthur snorted, “I want you mucking out the stables.”

“No you don’t,” Merlin purred, “There’s a tourney. You want me polishing armor and making snide remarks by your side.”

“No, Merlin,” Arthur threw his bed sheets back, and he darted up right as he glared at her, “I don’t actually want that.”

Merlin froze, “I- I’m sorry, Arthur. I wasn’t suppose to be away for so long. If you’re actually mad about that-”

“We both know you weren’t at the tavern. Lance told me that you told him what was really going on - why?”

“Why did I tell Lance?”

“Yes.”

“Did he actually say that I told him what was going on? Or did he simply say that he knew?”

“Is there a difference?”

“Yes, Arthur. A world of it. Now what did he tell about it?”

“That you were trying not to die.”

Merlin broke her gaze away from his, and she chewed on her bottom lip as she thought. She glanced as her wrist, and slowly she pulled up her sleeve. Arthur stared at it, the skin didn’t match in color. It was softer then the other as well, lacking the callouses she’d had when she’d arrived and the ones that had formed over the last year with her new work. As if it was freshly healed. New in its own sort of way, “What happened?”

“I - The - I was dying,” She answered simply, “I caught the wrong eye of someone. I slipped up, and I had to recover. Lance found me, and - that’s how he knew.”

“Gaius didn’t know.”

“I couldn’t put him in danger, Arthur. I had to hide or risk everything. Are you done being jealous now then?”

Arthur frowned, “Jealous? Why would I be jealous?”

“Lancelot would be a much finer catch then a prat. It’s only natural.” Merlin purred with a smirk.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “I could still have you in the stocks-”

“And - not with the tourney starting today. I’ll just slip out to make sure that no one else tries to use one of these to murder you.”

Arthur snorted. Merlin smirked, and they slipped into a comfortable pace of banter and silence. 


	5. Romantic Notes About Another Couple

Gwen was pounding on Merlin’s door at half past too early for even the birds, “One moment,” She grumbled as she pulled herself out of bed and confirmed that everything that needed to be covered was cover - her long hair finally cut with the help of the dragon when they’d spent far too much time together. Merlin opened the door with confidence, “Gwen? What’s wrong?”

Gwen frowned, “It’s Lance.”

Merlin stared at Gwen for a moment before raising an eyebrow with a smirk, “You mean Lancelot?” She leered.

Gwen flushed her face turning redder then a cherry, “Y-Yes.”

“What about him?”

“He’s - He’s not in Camelot.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow, “That’s hardly alarming.”

“We-We were suppose to met each other last night,” Gwen mumbled, “He never stands me up.”

Merlin stared at Gwen for a moment too long, “Oh.” Was all Merlin managed, “Oh.”

Gwen couldn’t speak if the hue of red was anything to go by, “Merlin, I don’t know who else to go to. Lance said if I ever needed anything - to go to you. No matter what. I just don’t want to get him in trouble.”

“And you don’t want others to know do you?”

“As I said, Lance speaks so well of you -”

“I’ll help, Gwen. I’m not saying otherwise. Just - Can you think of anything that could help me with finding him?”

Gwen stared at Merlin for a moment, paling, and by a miracle managed words, “I- I don’t know. I don’t even know why I’m coming to you. I mean, Lance speaks so well of you - but you’re just a servant like the two of us-”

“Gwen.”

Gwen stopped talking.

“I’ll find your lover boy for you, okay?”

“Thank you, Merlin. For saying that. I know you’ll give it your best and I appreciate that.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin woke up Arthur on time, loud and bright as Arthur refused to acknowledge was best for him. She had the breakfast layed out in front of him on the table, and a quick enchantment had ensured Arthur’s armour was already polished for him. 

However, she stood demure within the door after Arthur rose from the bed. Proper behavior. She did know what she was suppose to do after all. Just refused to do it most of the time. 

This simple act caught Arthur’s attention. He raised an eyebrow at her, but he didn’t ask.

“Lancelot has gone missing,” She whispered, “Everything I owe you to accomplish is already finished. I hope you do not mind my absence.”

Arthur nodded, “How do you know about this?”

“Gwen woke me this morning and informed me. She would have addressed it with Leon, but preferred discretion.”

“Gwen?”

“If you want castle gossip talk to a maid servant.”

“I think, Merlin, technically, I am,” Arthur answered with a smirk.

Merlin didn’t humor him with her expression, “I know where you sleep, and Gaius has taught me the proper herbs required to keep a man asleep during a castration.”

“Did he now?” Arthur’s voice cracked.

“No, but I can apply one piece of knowledge to other  _ more applicable  _ scenarios. So, actually… Yes. Yes, he did.”

“Gonna stop with the gender jokes again then.”

“Thank you, sire. You have grown.”

“Hardy har har, Merlin.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin was in her room with the spellbook on her lap. The only tracing spell in it was clearly visible to any who saw her using it.

It didn’t matter. If she could hide her gender from a king, she could hide a simple whirling arrow that wanted to a compass floating above her palm.

She cast the spell - and on the third attempt of the new enchantment she’d won it over. It worked.

 

* * *

 

The dungeons were where Merlin found Lancelot, beaten and battered. He looked up from his spot in the shadows of the furthest chamber. With the dark hues covering his face from dried blood in the shadows they’d tossed him into it wasn’t a surprise that no one had found him, “Lance,” Merlin whispered before quickly enchanting the door open.

“Merlin,” He groaned back.

“What happened to you, Lance?” She asked as she fluttered over to his side.

“Was in the tavern, waiting for Gwen, when I overheard a plot to harm Arthur,” He smirked, then winced in pain, “Thought I could handle them alone. I guess, I’m not you, huh, Merls?”

Merlin whispered a word, and Lancelot gasped as the pain was whisked away with his injuries, “Go see Gwen. She’s worried.”

“You’re not going to ask about the plot to kill Arthur?”

“His thick head?” Merlin smirked, “It’s impossible to kill him.”

“You’re going to run to his side, aren’t you?”

“It will be a struggle not to magic myself to his side.”

Lance searched her eyes, and he must have found something within them. He smiled.

“Go save the prince, Merlin.”

 

* * *

 

Merlin found Arthur at his designated spot with the knights during their afternoon training session. She smiled before she watched a group of three approach him. He went with them willingly. 

Merlin chased after them, flickering through the shadows as her father had trained her. Not with magic, but with nimble feet and a knowledge of the castle pushing her forward and keeping her concealed.

The minutes apart from her prince felt like an eternity, but she found him in a cove tucked in a circle with his three assailants around him. The cut of his gaze told her that their whispered words gave away the shift of their intent.

Arthur still shouted in pain as a foot hit the back of his knee causing him to go down.

“Nimueh wishes to express her regrets that she couldn’t be here for herself,” Merlin heard them growl as she edged closer, no one the wiser.

“I thought she said I wasn’t fated to die by  _ her _ hands,” Arthur spat out in defiance before struggling to shake the hands on his shoulders pinning him down off. It wasn’t enough.

“She mentioned you might say that - and I told her that it wouldn’t be her. Just her coin if  _ we _ did it.”

“And what did she have to say to that?” Merlin asked coming out of the shadows behind the lone man. She pressed the tip of her dagger into the bottom of his back. He stilled, “I know Nimueh,” Merlin purred into his ear. Her voice no longer disguised. She wanted him to know that he was being held at threat of death by the woman who stalked the halls of Camelot.

Her legacy from a year ago when she was traveling to the courts had started to former form within them as she’d figured it might be enough of a story to stave off those who thought they’d be able to take a chance at Arthur - at Camelot - without a plan of how to do so. 

If they were going to try to destroy Camelot on a weekly basis - then they could at least be smart about it.

“I thought the stories were just that,” The man answered, “No witch would be fool enough-”

“That’s not the answer I was looking for. What did Nimueh say? Did she laugh? Did she tell you that destiny is not the sort to be fooled by that sort of nonsense?”

“She had laughed,” He answered, “And if she’d known the truth behind the stories I’d dismissed then I suppose I see why that is.”

“Stories?” Arthur asked with a raised eyebrow.

Merlin couldn’t see the man she was hold at the tip of her dagger, but she could see the humor in the eyes of the men holding Arthur down, “I won’t tell,” The mercenary answered, “The stories of this woman are not mind to give.”

Arthur looked at Merlin. She shrugged, “So are you leaving now then?”

“You’ll let us leave with our lives?”

“Are you going to come back here?”

“We might stay in Camelot.”

“Oh really now?”

“No.”

“Then run. Don’t look back, and know that it’s true all the stories of who walks these halls. Tell all you see that she awaits for arrival of Emrys and the Once and Future King. That Camelot is protected.”

The man nodded, and Arthur watched as the three of them left. As they ran.

Arthur stood and he fell into place beside Merlin, “Do I want to know what that was about? With what you told them?”

“Not really.”

“What about the ‘Once and Future King’ bit? Should I be worried that you might try to give my throne away without my consent?”

Merlin smiled. She beamed, “That story - the title? That’s what the druids call  _ you _ , Arthur,” She turned to watch his face as he sputtered trying to figure out what that meant, “They think you’ll be the one to bring peace - not to Camelot - but to all of Albion. I will not be giving Camelot away to anyone else.”

“You - You believe in that then?”

“Not at all,” She smiled. It was gentler. It was honest, and Merlin couldn’t help but met Arthur’s eyes as she dared to chance at the seeing the truth of the prophecy in him, “I believe in you. I believe that the fates can burn in the blink of an eye, but that you’ll show us the truth of it because of your heart.” She reached out, and after a moment she rested her hand on that spot of his chest, “I believe only in you, Arthur.”

“Not in Camelot?” He asked.

“If you ever hear me whisper the blessing ‘Long live the king’ then it is only your name that I have trust in in wearing that tittle.”

“I don’t -”

“You made amends after killing the unicorn, Arthur. You grow and you change, and you and your blond mop shine like the sun. Uther does not. I believe in Camelot because I believe in you.”

Arthur’s breath caught in his chest as his eyes were lost in hers. The touch light flickered over his face. He licked his lips, but his words were a distraction from the moment they both knew was between them, “And Emrys? Do you believe in them as well?”

“Emrys, Arthur, is the fool bound to protect you.”

“Oh. So, that’s you then?”

Merlin looked away.

“Because if that’s what the druids say Emrys is,” Arthur whispered, “My protector that is - then I only want it to be you.”

She couldn’t look away at that, and she swallowed, getting lost under his gaze. Arthur started to lean forward.

And, Merlin leaned right back. She leaned right into him, and their lips met for a long slow chaste moment that neither dared to break by asking more of the other. 

Merlin didn’t need to breath, she’d be willing to choke to keep this moment forever, but Arthur did, and he pulled away from her. He held her arms, “Merlin,” He whispered, “You’re a servant.”

“And one day you’ll be king.”

“I meant-”

“I know,” She smiled, “And I’m fine with that. Thank you-”

“Don’t-”

“Your attention,” Merlin whispered, “Is worth gratitude. I am, after all, just a servant.”

Arthur closed his eyes, and in a moment that she knew was indecision and madness at being that over she knew she could smile. He met her face once more, and they each gave everything as they sought out every crevice of the other’s face. Their hands wandering over the other, but they knew where they were. In the halls of Camelot, their hands did not wander enough for flesh to meet flesh.

Still, Merlin didn’t need to breath, and Arthur only tore them apart when the tearing of such would lead to trembling and gasping at the struggle of what their desire for the other ment. An exhaustion kept their lips separate, but they leaned into the other. Arthur’s lips on her forehead for just a moment before he shifted his own forehead to support himself on her.

“I need to return to the knights,” Arthur whispered.

“I know.”

“Did you find Lance?”

“I did.”

“Is he safe?”

“He overheard those three last night. He’s fine. They’d just locked him in the dungeons. No one noticed it happening in the dead of night.”

“Gwen will be happy.”

“I’d imagine so.”

“You still have the rest of the day off. Enjoy it, Merlin.”

“I will, Arthur.”

It was still a moment before he tore away from her, and their eyes met as he looked back in the regret having to do so.

 

* * *

 

Things didn’t change between them beside a lingering gaze within Camelot’s castle walls. Merlin woke him with a shout and curtains thrown wide open. Arthur grumbled and then he’d order her about. Merlin grumbled and then she’d do it if really had to be done and not something that was ordered because of Arthur’s preening, his desire to push her limits because he knew she wouldn’t let him pass them. Even hunting, nothing changed in the quiet moments of the forest that they’d steal to be alone while his knights went in different directions.

Their gaze gentler, but discretion marred every moment. Arthur would watch Merlin flow like a river. Merlin would watch him stand like a castle with shoulders strong enough to carry the literal weight of his entire kingdom on them. Arthur did not reach for the fire of Merlin’s passions. He still hear Lancelot’s whispered words.  _ Merlin is a force of nature. Is there anything comfortable about being near her?  _ Everything about her was comfortable, but Arthur would be the first to admit to a passionate love of a roaring thunderstorm. Merlin was a force of nature, and if he let her hold his heart he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to take it back from her. 

He knew he wouldn’t want to anyways.

Merlin never reached out because of the simple fact that she would never reach further then to grab Arthur’s hand, where ever it was that it wanted to met her at. He was a castle, and she was a guard of it, yes, but because she dared not to change it. She would dare any that tried.

So their gazes lingered in the shadows of privacy, but even after they’d tasted the flickered flames for the other they dared not to change a thing towards the other after. Tentatively satisfied with the singular fact that they could see each other. That they still trusted the other, and that they were still satisfied with that.

That was when Merlin meet Freya.


	6. Notes to Others Always Return Home Wrinkled

There were always witch hunters coming through Camelot. Never staying. Perhaps if Merlin had come to Camelot as a new green untrained thumb to her magic there would have been a threat, but she wasn’t so it wasn’t. Her father was aware of her lack of boundaries - especially since they’d found her immortality - and he’d taught her how to hide in plain sight as the plainest of Janes, even with the long locks and freckles that could charm a prince at first sight.

She had also figured out how to do the opposite of that, and she soaked Camelot in the aura that those of that skill sought. Every inch of Camelot smelled of her magic and there was not a spot in the Citadel that did not scream in their ears that there was a warlock within those walls. So soaked that they’d hardly notice the thickest spot, the source, that it was all coming from. 

So they lied to Uther under the weight of her trick. They told him that there was no one practicing magic in his citadel, and she supposed that in their own way they were right. She was not practicing after all.

But that did not keep them from bringing those they found without in. Uther still paid his bounties, and the mysterious warlock that hid in Uther’s castle never acted against them. They always came with those that had been easy to capture. They brought innocents to the slaughter, and they led those only trying to help them to be their death.

Except for the one that brought in Freya. He was a regular in Camelot with his wagon filled with those cursed to hurt, and he’d always smirk when he told Uther that he’d never be able to find one in Uther’s walls. Merlin loathed the man. They were still innocents even if they’d killed. They deserved care, not murder. They deserved to be seen, not tucked away into the ground where none could hear their stories to right the wrongs against them.

Uther was always quick to act against magic, but for some reason he waited with Freya, the young woman in a tattered dress that shivered in the cold but held still with down cast eyes never begging for a chance to hope that she’d be able to change the heart of a cold murdering king.

The witch hunter made it clear that he’d not changed her, and Freya’s only words were to confirm that it was not the man that had assaulted her. Merlin’s blood ran cold with the realization that that meant few good things, and most likely that she’d been cursed into the basset form because she’d tried to resist it.

Uther pitied her, Merlin supposed, but his only action was waiting to confirm before he lead her to the slaughter. That needed to see it with his own eyes.

Merlin’s chilled blood burned hot, and as if that cauldron radiated from within Arthur looked at her from across the room. His torn face tempered her, cautioned for self restraint, but it nothing to chill her back to room temperature. Merlin couldn’t read his thoughts, wouldn’t even if she knew the magic words for that, but she knew he was thinking of Morgana and the damage that a lack of control over her dreams would have caused her. He saw Morgana in the girl in front of Camelot’s court where few saw other then a killer, or worse yet a small girl touched and changed by magic.

Emrys longed for her king to act on that empathy, but she knew that neither had grown into their titles quite yet.

 

* * *

 

It was midnight when she slipped into the dungeons, and Arthur knew he shouldn't have been watching their entrance. But, he hadn’t been able to sleep after Merlin’s haunted gaze fell on him during the afternoon session he had with his father. 

He thought about following, and he really hadn’t meant to. It had taken minutes of indecision before his feet made the choice for him. After all, if she decided that the girl was going to be free? Then he wasn't going to be the one trying to stop her. He knew to pick his battles, and he knew well enough that that was one that he was doomed to lose if he tried to fight it.  She was a force of nature after all.

But he did, and he heard the whispers between them, “There has to be a way to break your curse.”

“Is there a way to break yours?”

“What?”

“You talk about Arthur as if you’re in love with him. I think, mine is a kindness in comparison. Could he ever love you if he knew all your secrets?”

Arthur stepped closer in the silence that followed, fearful that the stone and the distance had kept him from hearing her answer to such, “Could you love me despite knowing them?” Merlin answered.

Arthur kept still at the answer, and he waited fear locking him in place. Had Merlin just -

“Yes,” She answered, “But would you want me to?”

Arthur’s feet made his choice again as his mind warred with indecision. He fled.

 

* * *

 

Neither had expected to catch Merlin in the girl’s embrace the next midnight, “Is she safe?” Arthur merely whispered as Merlin pulled him away from the dungeons.

Merlin met his with a glare, “Am I?” She answered.

Arthur left them alone after that.

 

* * *

 

Uther killed her at noon the next day when the guard told him of the noises that he’d had dared not to investigate for fear of his life.

Arthur was pale, and he dismissed Merlin from her duties for the rest of the day.

“If I may argue-” Arthur raised an eyebrow at that, “I would rather stay near you.”

“You’ve already done everything-”

“Liar. You think that since I’ve killed Freya I need a break.”

“Am I wrong then?”

“Yes.”

“Then what am I suppose to do for you, Merlin?”

“Nothin-” Merlin froze, and she looked away.

“Merlin? There’s something you want. What can I give you?”

“I want to spar with you.”

“A prince can’t just beat up their man servants…”

“I won’t hurt you. That’s why I want to spar with you. Because I know I won’t hurt you.”

“But you would Lance?”

“Maybe.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, “Is that so?”

“No. But - but you asked. I answered that’s all. If it’s impossible-”

“I - I didn’t say that.”

“Sort of-”

“Merlin,” Arthur nodded, “It only makes sense that I’d try to keep you in shape and make sure that you’d be able to defend yourself.”

“Uh, huh.”

“Look. That’s the story we’re sticking to and we’re keeping to it.”

Merlin rolled her eyes, but she nodded, “Thank you. Thank you, Arthur.”

“Of course,” Arthur grumbled not really sure of how to respond, “Now good?”

Merlin snorted, “Yes actually.”

Merlin held open the door and Arthur lead the way, “You okay?” He asked on his way out.

“No, Arthur. The noise that doomed her was what she made under the touch of my love. So, no. Not in the least.”

“Sorry. I just meant… I don’t know what I meant.”

“You meant to know how I was. I am still not okay. I’m really trying not to think about anything to be honest.”

“Hence sparring then?”

“Hence sparring then. Nothing quite losing yourself in the patter of blows. A dance with hands and the music of adrenaline.”

Arthur stopped, and he turned to Merlin. He stared at her, and she stared back. Their longing naked between them and unable to be spotted by any that might have happened upon them just then, “You astonish me everyday, Merlin,” His voice a breath.

“Sire.” She cautioned.

“What did you see in Freya? Would she have taken you away from me?”

Merlin met his gaze, even if neither knew how she answered, “She saw me, Arthur. Not many people do.”

“So, you loved her then?”

“I kissed her, and it wasn’t like Morgana. I wanted to do it, and I knew it was me that wanted to. Not some sort of a dance to keep up a lie about being a man, being simply your servant.”

“I’m sorry being my servant is so hard on you.”

“It isn’t like that,” Merlin chidded, “It isn’t simply like that.”

“Now isn’t the time,” Arthur stepped closer, his voice softening, “I’m sorry I asked.”

“No,” Merlin put her arm on his elbow, “Don’t be. You’re just trying to help me.”

Arthur nodded, and then a tiny smile bloomed on his face, “And sparring will help?”

Merlin smiled back, and she nodded, “Sparring will definitely help.”

“Do you have a preference? Hand to hand? Sword play?”

“Hand to hand. It’s the only way you’ll have a chance with me.”

Arthur snorted, and they walked to the yard in silence.

 

* * *

 

Arthur cleared out a ring and Merlin took off her jacket using the action as a cover for her eyes to flicker gold. The noise of a rustling coat to cover her whispered words that would slide the knights eyes away, never noticing how hard it was they were working. They’d see, perhaps linger a few seconds, but they would think of something to draw them away. Make it seem like nothing much was mattering with herself and Arthur. She turned to Arthur, and she smiled. Arthur smiled back, “I can only hope you don’t hit like a girl, Merlin.”

“You say that near Gwen and you’ll fast learn that girls hit well enough,” She retorted, and they lost track of time trading blows and never pausing to admit any sort of a defeat.

When Arthur held her down though, and his eyes met hers, “I think I’ve learned that without having to learn it from  _ Gwen _ , Merlin.”

Merlin smiled before rolling him over and pinning him herself, “Well, glad this has been enlightening enough on its own for you then.”

His eyes trailed her face, and lower, and Merlin’s cheeks grew a bit of heat as she allowed herself to steal the same glances. Arthur’s decision to get back to the matter at hand let him get the upper hand for just a moment. Just one moment.

 

* * *

 

Merlin lost contact with the druid encampment that Morgana was with, and she thought nothing of it. Things were dangerous in Camelot after all. However, the whispered words or a dragon's call reached to her mind.

_ Free me and I’ll tell you where the witch you love is. _

Merlin gave away nothing as she tended to Arthur’s side during dinner, but the moment he dismissed her was a different story all together. She ran to the dungeons catching only the attention of those that were  looking for her on her way. No one.

Her sharp steps echoed on the stone of Killighara’s cave, but her voice roared over it, “What do you mean, you over sized ball of scales?”

The dragon flew to the door, that small allowance of space Uther granted him, and raised an a ridge at Merlin, “Hardly the sort it words you should use to get the information that brought you here.”

“There is no information,” She hissed, “Dragon schemes and lies are what bring me down today. I simply do not need you screaming in my head begging for attention-"

“Dragons do not lie, Merlin.”

“They simply carefully select the truths they wish to tell.”

The great dragon smirked, “And that is why I waited to tell you of the Lady Morgana’s fate.”

Merlin didn’t need to breath. So she stopped, “What?”

“Her blood sings with magic because of her lineage, but she was raised in Uther’s house because it only sings from half of her tree. She is Arthur’s half sister, Merlin, and she is also half sister to a High Priestess of the Old Religion - Morgause. Unlike Arthur, she is aware of their blood connection.”

His gaze met hers, and it was only met with a glazed over look and not murder - because there would be no attempt if Merlin decided to slay the great beast - because she was putting the puzzle of skipped words together. It didn’t take as long as the dragon thought it would.

“Morgause wants Camelot,” She finally whispered, “And she’s willing to abuse Morgana to do it.”

“So, it is,” The dragon conceded, and Merlin withdrew her daggers. The words of magic on the tip of her tongue, “I can find them for you. You can slay them before they decide to take Camelot from Arthur.”

“Morgana would never -”

“I doubt your father did not skip over the lessons about the harms of torture-”

“You left her and you doomed her to her fate. I will kill you-”

“It was always her fate to be Camelot’s downfall. If not by Morgause's hands then it would have been done by another’s to shape her for such.”

“Your’s. Through Morgause this time, but you’d have done it through any means. You would have Camelot burn for your freedom from it when you know what it's worth.” Merlin accused, “And you expect me to trust you?”

“I expect you to have no choice. Because if you scry her location you will not be able to reach her in time.”

“By dragon’s scales,” She hissed, “I can’t free you. You’ll burn Camelot on your way out!”

“But you have no other option but to watch Camelot burn. By my hands or by Morgana’s, Merlin. And I assure you - it is far too late to save it Camelot. Uther doomed it long ago. Magic must live in the land or else we doomed to have those born with fates such as yours.”

“And what the hell is that suppose to mean?”

“You mortal humans should be exactly that.”

“Fuck you too.”

“Now now, Merlin. I am the only chance you have at rescuing even a shell of the witch.”

Tears rolled down her eyes, “Unless these are all lies,” She whispered, “Morgana is with the Druids. She is safe.”

“Emrys,” He called her an idiot with her own name, “Scry her for yourself then. You are kin kind born with magic’s seed in your soul - you can see the truth with ease. That is why you fear it. Because you know the truth is too easy to find-"

“You will wish one day that you trusted me,” Merlin whispered, “You will find by the end that you will not have wished to turn the last of the Dragon Lords against your flame, Kilighara. I will never forget this. I can never forgive it either.”

“We are bound by the same vein of magic, Merlin. You will. Or else you will live alone.”

“Then that is what I will do, Kilighara, and that is the same fate that you will have. I will enjoy knowing that.”

“You will won’t you?” Kilighara whispered as he peered closer into the eyes that matched his own undying flames, “Perhaps, I ought not to have gambled against you. Perhaps the knights are right. Arthur correct. Perhaps you are a force of nature.”

“I am more then that,” Merlin whispered as she stepped closer to the great beast that she might have once reluctantly called a friend as much as a dragon lord aware of their tricks would dare to do so, “I am a force to be reckoned with. I am not a force of nature so much as I am simply a part of it. I am so much more then you can handle.”

The flames between them flared, and the great dragon had a moment’s thought that her insolence was a matter best dealt with before his own plans unfurled - Morgana would free him. Through insanity if he choose calling to her mind, weakening it further even or through a plea of empathy for her to right the wrongs that her father, Uther, committed against their kind. 

He did not need Merlin. 

He did not need to anger her either. 

And, he peered into the changed future as he intended to slay her in that moment. And then he knew there would be no point in trying such. Her magic would not be stopped by his own. He could slay a high priestess of the old religion with his flames. A dragon lord was a different matter, and her immortality was a key that locked his success away. 

“You had best do your best, Merlin. Because if we are to start this? Now is the time where I can hurt you the best.”

“You’ve pushed a move too soon in the game if you wished to try to kill my heart.”

“Mh,” The great beast purred, “Killing your heart? Now, that is an interesting play to try. Even if the young king is not fated to die by my hands.”

“You don’t even have hands. So stop playing coy. You haven't got got a chance now that I know you need to be watched so closely.”

“Your father will be -"

“A dragon lord well aware of your freedom should I truly need to free you too soon for his arrival.”

“You will, Merlin. Once you see the sorts that Morgause needs to keep her broken. You love her too much to see that she’s gone from us even of she breathes.”

“Bastard,” Merlin answered simply before she left to scry out the truth.

 

* * *

 

She was back within hours. The heat of dawn warmed the cave, “Enjoy your day of freedom,”  She said standing tall with a sword weighing her hand down. Her eyes flickered gold for a moment before her sword started to glow. She looked at the dragon, and neither mentioned the memory of when she’d come for him to forge it in dragon’s flame before. 

“It will not merely be a day,” He growled in response. 

Merlin smirked, raised an eyebrow and the sword in her hand, “Oh? Really? You sure about that, Kilighara?”

He opened his mouth again to respond when her eyes flickered again with a wordless spell. The great dragon said nothing as the effects of it revealed their self. The cave flooded with Merlin’s magic and the pressure of it caused the future to come unbidden to his eyes. 

Merlin’s future. It was her magic after all pouring into his own and overwhelming him.

They knew it would do nothing to temper his flames that were soon to pour down on Camelot, but he missed the moment that she departed with the distraction. It kept her safe from his flames. She would not have died from them - but she wouldn't have lived enough to cause him harm either.

He would enjoy his day, and he would ignore the matter of Merlin until she became his lord.

 

* * *

 

Arthur woke alone in his room to the screams of his citizens and the crunch of stone with a dragon’s roar. The door slammed open, and Merlin stood in the doorway. Their eyes met frozen in the moment between them as the world around them burned.

“What’s happening?” Arthur asked her gently. His fear unbidden from her. He wouldn't realize it til later, but he’d stopped hiding such matter from her long ago.

“The beginning of the end,” She whispered before clearing her throat, “There’s a dragon attacking Camelot. Uther is summoning you for the emergency consul.”

Arthur nodded and he lead the way that both knew too well to his father’s side.

 

* * *

 

The dragon’s freedom over the castle brough Gaius to Uther mentioning dragon lords, and once more the name of Ealdor was brought up. Arthur glanced at his manservant, and Merlin realized as that as they spoke of Balinor that Arthur had never been told what her father’s name was. Her secret was still that.

And, she no longer knew how she felt about that. Perhaps she’d lived in Camelot too long. Perhaps she’d loved Arthur too long. Perhaps that was why she wanted him to know the truth. Or perhaps it was because she freed the dragon to try to save what she saw was left of Morgana and any secret compared to that one seemed far too little and worthless.

“Consider it handled,” Was all that Merlin had to say to him, “I know the man. Save the people here that you can.”

She still wouldn't be the one to tell him. Not now anyways.

 

* * *

 

Within the time it took to get to Ealdor and back to Camelot, the dragon left. It took another day for Merlin to reappear. It took a question to finally get her to speak to him again, “Did you find Balinor?”

“Is the dragon gone?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think that answers that question.” The day was silent after that.

The next started the same, “Do you want to spar?” Arthur asked.

Merlin looked at him with shattered eyes that he’d never thought he’d see on her face, “What?” She asked.

“Last time - I just mean - Something happened, didn’t it?” He sputtered. He rubbed at the back of his head as he refused to met her eyes.

“It did,” She answered softly.

“And after Freya - you wanted to spar. To distract yourself from the pain. Did you want to again?”

Merlin’s smile was a shadow, “Yes,” She whispered, “I think I’d like that.” And, Arthur knew he’d wake the next day with too many bruises from a fight with a servant, but as they both made their way to the field to practice Arthur couldn’t find himself regretting it. This time the knights stared openly at them, but Uther never mentioned hearing about the incident.

Arthur appreciated that.

 

* * *

 

That night Merlin met with her mother and Morgana. Morgana battered with eyes that saw only the future and lies. Morgause having enchanted her to illusions for weeks on end to break her love of Camelot and her bind to the noble’s duty to them. Morgana had been silent since the dragon brought her back to Merlin, and Merlin had no doubt that it would be a while longer before they saw whatever it was that was left of her within the shell that her sister had turned her into. Merlin whispered words to bind Morgana’s spells, her magic, her visions, and she sent her to recover with the newly grieving widow.

Morgana stared at Merlin as she saw again, “You’re not suppose to look like that,” She whispered.

“What does that mean?” Merlin asked. Fear would have sent Morgana away without the answer to such, but - that wasn’t what ruled her. She freed the dragon, damned the consequences, to save the woman in front of her.

Morgana looked to the side. She tilted her head as if she was trying to hear something. Perhaps she was, “The dragon,” She whispered, “And the dreams. I know you’re a girl, Merlin.” Her gaze snapped to Merlin, “You lied to me. You deceived me into falling in love with you to save your own skin.”

“Is that how you see it?” Merlin asked. It was a whispered, and Merlin didn’t know how she’d managed even that.

Morgana said nothing. Her eyes drifting off again into the distance, with drawing into herself to hide from . Merlin watched her mother escort Morgana away back to Ealdor.

 

* * *

 

Merlin didn’t sleep once she’d slipped back into the citadel’s walls. The bodies that she’d indirectly burned filled her nose. The sight of the pool that Morgana was forced to gaze into as Morgause cast her own illusions to be reflected from within it filled her eyes when she closed them. And the trust in Arthur’s voice as he sent to Balinor, to handle the dragon.

They kept her awake. They haunted her, and she dared not to run away from the fact that she’d failed them. That she’d failed everyone.

That maybe the dragon she’d banished had been right. Camelot was doomed to fall.

That Arthur was going to die because of her inability to protect him. That Morgana was going to kill them because she couldn’t protect her. 

That her love was a curse.

Freya was proof of that.

 

* * *

 

The next day, she woke Arthur, “I want to spend today practicing with Lancelot. I want to practice in the woods with swords.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at her, and he pushed back his thick blanket to sit up, “Does Leon need Lancelot?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow at him, “It’s Leon.”

Arthur chuckled, “Yeah. I’ll need your service during dinner. The dragon shook Uther up, and he wants to try to find Morgana again.”

“Oh.”

“Able to tell me where she is now?”

“She’ll be coming home soon.”

“She’s finished her training?”

Her breath hitched and after a moment she smiled, “Yeah,” She whispered, “That’s what they’ve told me.”

“Good,” Arthur smiled, “Good. It will be good to have her back home.”

“Yeah,” Merlin whispered, “Yeah it will be, won’t it?”

 

* * *

Lancelot stood in the clearing across from Merlin with a raised eyebrow, “Swords?” He asked.

Merlin frowned. Her hair enchanted long again, and her dress concealed her daggers and the sheath to the blade in her hands, “Yes,” She told him, “I’m hardly as skilled at these as I should be. So practicing with the best knight that Camelot has? Have a better plan?”

“Not a knight, Merlin,” He answered, “I doubt I’ll have anything to teach you.”

“Just be careful with me will you? Bleeding out is not a fun way to go.”

Lance rolled his eyes, and their session finished with Merlin grumbling the entire way back to the Citadel grateful that she’d left her man servant’s clothing far to the side of their event. Blood soaked as the dress was anyways. Grateful that she’d fallen back to disguise her identity with the accidental death that could have been seen by a wandering citizen.

Lance was still shaking. “I didn’t think there was anything you couldn’t do,”  Lance mumble in his defense, a weak attempt to embrace the humor that Merlin had about the whole affair. “I thought you were being meek about the matter!”

“When have I ever been humble about what I can do?” She smirked, “I’m the dragon lord by the way now, Lance. I can summon dragons.”

“Or banish them?” He asked with a squint. He had been there garbed in armor that Leon had gifted him with. He had been there on the front lines to scare the beast as they waited for the dragon’s lord to save them. He had heard the beast roar, in a language too old for human ears, what still was clearly a profanity before it had flown away of it’s seemingly own accord.

Merlin whistled. She whistled innocently, “Maybe.” He glared at her, and then her smile was filled with fangs of its own, “Absolutely,” She whispered, “Banished him away from Camelot properly. He has too much blood on his hands.”

“Is that why?” Lancelot asked, “I remember the first time I met him too well. Did you banish him because of his actions or because of the betrayal that they were?”

Merlin didn’t answer. She couldn’t.


	7. There's Always Too Much to Say When We Can Finally Talk to the Ones We Love Again

Arthur kept Merlin by his side the next day as they rode out on the newest attempt to find Morgana. He kept Leon and Lance for his patrol while sending the rest of the knights in the opposite way of Merlin’s directions. Gwen was in their shadows as the rebellious soul that Merlin hadn’t dared to keep away. 

“She’s - She’s not in good shape, Arthur,” Merlin had told him.

“Morgana? How do you know? What do you mean?”

“Gwen,” Merlin answered, “Gwen needs to be there.”

“Not you?” Arthur asked surprised, “I thought you two-”

Merlin couldn’t look at him. He need that look on his man servant. Shame. He knew it by absence. It was new. It was uncomforting, “No. No, she doesn’t need me, Arthur.”

“She loved you,” Arthur whispered, “I - She spoke well of you.”

Merlin glanced at him, “I lied,” She whispered, “She didn’t finish her training. The druids were attacked.”

Leon pressed in closer, “What do you mean? She was with druids this whole time?”

Arthur glanced at Leon, “That’s the part you focus on?”

Leon glanced between the crowd of them. Gwen finally emerging from the bushes, “Well, I seem to be the last to know, other then perhaps Gwen?”

“Know what?” Gwen asked.

“Where Morgana’s been?”

“You know?” She turned the three men who were slightly red in the face, “Well, Merlin, I suppose that explains why you weren’t panicked at her disappearance.”

Arthur and Merlin matched enough to look like a set of cherries, “Anyways,” Merlin’s voice was a soft mess, “The druids - Her half sister Morgause… Morgana needs someone that she can trust.”

“And she can’t trust you?”

Merlin tried to crack a smile, but it was most certainly a failure, “She won’t trust me now.”

“Why is that?”

“She knows doesn’t she?” Lancelot injected. All eyes turned to him, and he paled, “That you’re a girl,” He added.

Leon sputtered before turning to Merlin, “What?” He looked at Arthur. Who clearly knew. Then he looked at Gwen. Who clearly didn’t know. “Oh,” Was all he managed.

Arthur was pale, and he turned to watch Merlin, “Oh.”

Merlin looked away, “She also knows what I can do,” She whispered. She didn’t look at Lancelot when she said that. She didn’t look at anyone. The ground was quite fascinating.

Leon glanced between the faces around him, and it was as their eyes met that Gwen voiced the question, “And - and just what is that, Merlin? What can you do that would upset her? That would make you not what she needs right now? Other then - well - not being the man she was in love with that is?”

“An assassin. A spy. Merlin here is one of the best trained killers that I know of,” Arthur whispered before turned back to the road, “Gwen, ride up front with me. Merlin’s right. If she’s - If Morgana’s - Merlin isn’t what Morgana needs right now.”

Gwen shied away from Merlin, and she watched as her once friend fear her. Leon and Lancelot stayed with Merlin as the other pair started to ride off. Leon looked at Lance and then at Merlin, “I saw you tussling with Arthur the other day,” Merlin raised an eyebrow at that, and she watched him as she waited for the explanation of just what that statement ment, “After the dragon,” He admitted, “I believe that you’re skilled. I think it’s a regret that such skill has to be hidden.” His eyes flickered over her clothes in way of explanation, “Although I do suppose that it’s best that no one knows that Arthur’s safest secret is so dangerous.”

Merlin frowned at that, “What do you mean with a statement like that one, Sir Leon?”

“I mean,” Leon whispered with a sharp glance at Arthur’s direction, “I mean, I know you must have come to protect him - I know how you received your position in Camelot after all. Who doesn’t?

“But I’ve seen the way he’s started looking at you recently as well,” He added after a moment of watching her, “I thought it was a safe secret that he was fooling around-”

Lancelot very pointedly cleared his throat. Leon shrugged.

“But to know that you can’t be used to harm the prince… ” He finished, “It’s reassuring.”

And then he rode off after the two that were barely out of ear shoot. Merlin refused to met Lance’s eyes as he watched her, “What happened to Morgana, Merlin?”

She looked then. She refused to answer.

“Don’t think I missed how you skimmed over what you know happened to her,” He said gently.

She nodded, “She’s going to hurt Camelot. Maybe. I’m a not a priestess. Imagine an immortal idiot who could see into the future.”

“But you think Morgana-? Hurt Camelot?” His voice cracked with doubt, “You must know more then you’re saying then.”

“She’s Arthur’s half sister,” She whispered, “Morgause found her, and she - Morgana didn’t want the throne, but now…”

“Now what, Merlin?” Lance prompted.

“She was tortured. Under visions and illusions and - And I don’t know if Morgana is still herself. I just - I just saw the last few days. And - And the dragon is what gave away my gender. I didn’t bind it enough to protect that secret. And I already lied to her about my magic. I told her that I was a master at illusions and only at that - and now -"

Lancelot reached out for her hand and she cut off her rambling with that small reassurances squeezing her shoulder, “You’ll protect Camelot from her even if you’ve already failed her the once.”

“That is far more reassuring to hear then it has any right to be.”

 

* * *

 

When Merlin and Morgana spat fire at each other, Arthur never questioned it. 

When Merlin woke him, and told him a week was missing. That the Lady Morgana was gone, Arthur knew that she had never really returned to them.

His father refused to see it. Morgana could not have magic.

She was not evil.

It broke Arthur’s heart hearing it put that way. She had been good once. She had been good, and it had been Uther’s rage that broke her. It had driven her away from them to hope for a cure to control a power she had never chosen.

It was ironic. The twisting of fate that couldn’t save her because it wasn’t them that had doomed her. It was Uther and his careless actions set into motion long before any of their births.

 

* * *

 

When Arthur left Camelot for his coming of age ‘adventure’ as Merlin called it, he finally met Gwaine, a distant friend - well, they said ‘friend’. And they clarified it in unison.

It sent a shiver down his spine that she could be so close to someone that they giggled in unison.

“Is this another partner of yours then?” He grunted.

Gwaine knew exactly what he ment.

Merlin, and her raised brow, did not, “Partner?” She scoffed, “What in all of Albion are you trying to say about Gwaine?”

“No,” Gwaine clarified, “We’re not like that.” A mad look at Merlin as he further sputtered, “That- that you know… We had that talk… ”

That put the pieces together for Merlin, “You mean sleeping together?” She answered with an exeragation that was not need but that Arthur himself would have easily admitted was earned with his careless reference to her choice of bedmates, “You mean to ask if I’ve fucked the sharpest blade in Cendred’s kingdom hard into a tavern bed?”

Gwaine was a wine red in his face, from what Arthur could see from between Gwaine’s fingers, “Merlin,” He moaned in a vague hope for relief.

“No, no,” Merlin chided, “Arthur was the one asking if I’ve ridden you. I can only presume that he wants to hear all the sordid details about  _ your _ moans. The way I cried out your name-”

“The man is as red as the Winter’s wine!” Gwaine cried out, “Show him some pity.”

“We’re cousins, Arthur,” Merlin snapped out in response to the real request that Gwaine had aired - to show Gwaine some relief.

They weren’t like that after all. They just weren’t.

“No, we’re not,” Gwaine mumbled, “But better.”

Arthur rode away with the pointed thought of refusing to ask for clarification on the matter, “This isn’t a group quest, Merlin!” He called out instead, “Go off and fuck the cousin for all I care. Don’t you dare follow me to the Fisher King’s Kingdom!”

He didn’t look to see her smirk. He could feel it in the air.

After all, she knew this was his quest. He had to prove his ability to rule, and, honestly, it would be ashame if his Emrys didn’t have to prove that as well.

So, there was nothing left to be said between them - and he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of a reaction to her blatant disrespect for the systems of Camelot.

Once, long, long ago, was more than enough.

 

* * *

 

Arthur wasn’t surprised when he saw Merlin in the throne room, on her knees with a tear stained face before the skeleton of a king passed away centuries ago. 

Actually - he was. But only with the smaller details of it. And - He didn’t ask before he stepped forward into her vision to claim the trident he’d come for.

He didn’t after either.

“Let’s just hope the wyverns have been handled now, shall we?”

He ignored the broken whisper of a laugh behind him. Just like how he’d ignored the words of being courage and needing magic and strength to complete his quest. How he’d need all three now just as he would later if he wanted to keep his kingdom together.

He was good at ignoring things.

 

* * *

 

Ignore them long enough and they become forgotten memories.

Or at least they become the particulars that make up the dreams that wake you up in a sweat when your dreams decide to side with your father and make you question her. Dreams that are easily dismissed in the morning light as her jesting smile fills your eyes. Lips that you just want to kiss despite the words you have every reason to doubt have slipped out of them. 

Eyes that just steal your attention, and hoping to catch the moment when they glitter gold is an excuse that you eventually stop giving to yourself. You had her in your hands once, and that was more then enough to doom your heart.

You only hope your father is too blind, in those mornings that you wake from the dreams you’d have figured him to make, not to know what the knights already do.

That you’ve fallen in love with your man servant - and not even magic would taint your view of her. She would hardly need it to destroy the kingdom when she’d already arrive to Camelot with a blade in her hand.

It’s in the dawn air after those dreams that you stare longer as she moves about gabbering. Your words a parry that you’ve learned long ago, and they keep her from noticing anything odd.

That you might be thinking that she’d be the safest to fall in love with because you know she’d never need to win that to destroy you. She’d never need to lay a finger on you to hurt Camelot. She’d never need a dragon or a hint of magic to take everything away. 

She’s dangerous. She’s passion and fire. If she is magic then she is the embodiment of it because it could never be more mysterious in its actions then she is.

She is everything.

And she is a man. A man in your service - and she still smiles when she sees you.

She’d still die to save you and everything else. Everything that you should fear her destroying. Because she can. And that potential is why Uther banned magic.

You should ban her. From Camelot.

From your heart.

But you can’t.

And as the sunlight shades her face as you wake to see her every morning, a small part of you, a part that you hate, wishes you didn’t have Uther as a father. You didn’t have a kingdom to govern. If you were only a knight…

You only let the thought finish as you observe and celebrate Lancelot’s wedding to Guinevere. He isn’t a knight yet, but you know that’s only a formality. You’ve seen the limp. You’ve seen the bruises, and you know they aren’t just from the unauthorized training that Leon provides him with.

It’s Merlin in Lance’s life, and it’s protecting Camelot that’s marring his health.

So you let the thought finish as you watch him kiss his lover for the first time in public.

If only you were a knight - then you could marry Merlin. Then you could marry out of love.

You leave early. You don’t want Merlin to notice that you’ve nearly broken your heart. Not when it’s been years since you tasted each other. You don’t want to ruin it with feelings that you two can never act on.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur was in the council chambers when news of Morgana’s assault on the Citadel broke.

It was all a blur after that. Merlin never left his side. 

If she had magic, she never used it. 

Uther was attached to them like a sword to a knight. Until he saw Morgana.

Arthur’s heart broke when his words weren’t enough to keep him to side. He watched as Morgana enchanted him. Merlin whispered in his ear that they were the same abuses Morgana had been through. Morgause had taught her them.

Uther was broken away from this reality and left to his greatest fears. Morgana’s eyes met Arthur’s. A glimmer of gold before Merlin’s shouted warnings vanished away.

He turned to Arthur and he ordered the guards to attack. The earth didn’t sway. It didn’t slide away but the next was Merlin - in a sight too vile.

But he knew without a doubt the position was his father’s doing.

He felt fingers entwine with his, but he looked and saw no answer. So he made his own. He knew it was true. “Just run,” He whispered, “I’ll follow you, Merlin. Just don’t let go - and run.”

He couldn’t see her smirk but he could feel it. So he closed his eyes. He stopped the assault on him through them and did the only thing he could ever do. He ran after Merlin hoping that she had a plan.

 

* * *

 

“The king is dead,” Gwaine announced as he rode back into their ruined hide away with Lancelot, “Morgana rules over Camelot now.” 

Merlin only stared at the shatter Guinevere was in Lance’s arms. The one that they’d managed not to find before leaving Camelot the first time.

Morgana had used her to get in after all.

Lancelot looked at Merlin with hope in his eyes, “I’m sorry,” She breathed over the distance, “I couldn’t save Morgana from the harms either. It’s the worst magic of all. The acceptance of fear. A poison for the mind that she’ll have to work through on her own.”

Lance shook his head, but that’s because they both knew that Gwen wasn’t alone.

Gwaine dropped the supplies they’d gone back for off with Gaius and Arthur was talking furiously with the knights to assess the damage done. Merlin drifted away. Her own poison sinking deep without a spell to cause it. Gwaine met her eyes.

Merlin pulled Gwaine to the side, “Thanks for coming as fast as you did.”

“Course, Merlin,” He answered quietly with a smile, “Anything for you.”

She had noticed the looks from Arthur, the weaker moments from Morgana when she’d seemed like her old self, and Merlin was tired, “Gwaine,” She purred as a warning.

Gwaine wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head, the easiest spot with their height difference, “It’s not like that.” He answered.

She wrapped her arms around him.

“You can cry if you want.”

“I could stab you if I wanted as well - but you don’t see me doing that either now do you?”

Gwaine laughed, a soft delicate thing, “There’s the killer I love.”

Merlin pushed him away. A playful smile was on both of their lips, “Listen here, Laddies!” She cried out before scaling a stone to look over them all.

“Oh gods,” Gwaine gasped, “The accent is slipping through.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he gave Merlin his attention.

“She’s already made it clear what she’ll do to us - This no reason to wait!” Merlin motioned to her audience, “We’ll raid the castle tonight then?”

Arthur’s eyes went wide, and he surveyed his men, “We’re a band of 13 knights,” Leon cleared his throat as if to emphasize the fact that there were only 10 - because Gwaine, Lance and Percival - though friendly faces known by all and trusted all the same - were not knighted ones amongst them. Arthur ignored him, “And she’s only just gotten rid of us - And some of us are still unfit for another round of a fight against a sorceress that has two armies at her back - one breathing and the other already dead! Or did you miss Cenred’s colors-”

“Arthur,” Merlin purred, “Dear-”

“Don’t call me dear,” He growled.

“If I say,” Merlin reaffirmed, “That we can take the castle back tonight we can. She’s not going to hurt anyone else if I have any say in this.”

“How, Merlin? We’re not trying to kill 25 bandits while they’re sleeping after all.”

Lance glanced at Gwaine, and Gwaine simply raised an eyebrow as he kept his gaze on Merlin. He knew better then to look away from her right now. Merlin barely noticed either as she kept her eyes on Arthur, “That would be telling,” Was all she could answer.

Because spelling out that she’d use magic to do so would indeed be telling.

“Oh for the love of,” Arthur grumbled, and then he said what Merlin had never thought could ever slip from his lips.

 

* * *

 

Arthur stared up at her, and she consumed him. Merlin always had.

Over five years now since she’d first hid away in his courts. Years since they’d touched, and she still kept his attention. He still gave her his longings. He shared his hopes and dreams.

She was an extension of his self.

And now his father was dead.

And he had a kingdom to win back.

“What did you say?” Merlin’s voice was weak. Shattered, but their gazes didn’t part and it steeled his spine for a repeated statement of fact.

“I said - If you win back my kingdom I’ll marry you. But first - you just have to explain to me how we’re going to do it.”

“Gods,” She hissed, “You really do know how to turn a girl on -”

“ _ Merlin. _ ”

“I could go raid the castle alone now,” She mumbled. Her hand raised to her chin as if she was considering how to do exactly that.

It wouldn’t have surprised Arthur if she was.

“Me too,” Gwaine pipped up, “I mean, if this is just an open offer that is.”

The knights smirked. “She’s long since been the queen of the court,” Leon jeered, “Just let ‘em formalize it.”

“What about us being knighted,” Percival asked with a raised hand. All eyes shifted to the burly man, “What?” He asked, “It’s fair. I’m tired of leaving just for Merlin to call me and Gwaine back to save you lot. Sure the pay would be nice to have as well.”

Gwaine snorted, “Yes, fine,” Arthur released control of the conversation in the hopes that he would get it back, “Now - How about we work on getting my throne back, huh? What about that raid now, Merlin?”

Her smile could have cut through time itself, “Simple,” She answered.

Compared to explaining to the council why he was now going to marry his known male manservant. If Merlin was comparing it to that - then she was right. The plan was simple.

It seemed to be full of holes when she explained it to him.

But then, as if by magic, it worked.


End file.
